


Blow

by Fcknziam



Series: Addicted. [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Drug Use, F/M, One direction AU, Original Character(s), POV Second Person, zayn AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:23:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2064492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fcknziam/pseuds/Fcknziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To some people chasing the next high is the most important thing, and Zayn is one of those.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blow

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second installment in a series I'm working on. I hope you enjoy it! comments/feedback are strongly encouraged and appreciated :)

Fighting wasn’t something foreign for the two of you. You loved each other dearly of course, proven by the generously sized diamond newly mounted on your finger, but the two of you were quite infamous amongst your friends for your rather loud arguments. Most of the time over nothing, how he was messy and how you pestered him about it; they never lasted very long and were almost silenced with his lips pressed against your neck. Neither of you were afraid to call out the other on their bullshit. You were a touch cookie, a challenge which he loved. He prided himself on being the only person that you could open up to and really talk, without deflecting with some cynical or smart ass comment. Much like you prided yourself on being one of the honored few that could make Zayn smile his crinkly eyed smile, or laugh the kind of laugh that would boom through the house. And though you fought, there were always more laughs and smiles, than screams and tears.  
However lately it seemed the laughs were in short supply, and in its place were unpredictable mood swings. One minute he’d be completely fine and the next he’d blow up over nothing, ranting about how you’re sneaking behind his back with someone else, which you passionately denied of course, but it only seemed to make him angrier, that you needed to ‘stop fucking lying’ to him. You didn’t know what to think of it at first, your usually mild tempered fiancée was suddenly go on these tangents for a few hours, running around the house and then he just sort of crashed. The outbursts scared you, you’d fought before but now when he was angry, he was someone completely different. Not only that, but it worried you that he was question your relationship so close to the wedding. You could handle his anger, that was fixable, but you didn’t want to start a marriage, a life with someone, without the foundation of trust. But going against you gut, you simply chucked it up to nerves about the wedding and stress form work. It wasn’t until a mutual friend came to you worried about the possibility of Zayn having a drug problem, did things start to click with you. Initially you were defensive, furious even. He had a bit of an edge to him, which you liked, and sure he hung around people you would rather him not, but he wasn’t a drug addict. But it planted the seed, and you slowly started noticing things. His random burst of energy for a few hours at a time, mood swings. How he would be sick for no reason, shaky and nauseous one day, and the next as though nothing had happened. You’d seen him do it once before, at a party. It was just one line in the back of the room with some less than tasteful people. You remember because at the time you were more upset about the harlot on his arm, than the powder you’d just seen him ingest. He didn’t know you saw him and you never brought it up. People did coke at parties recreationally all the time, you’d done it yourself once regrettably, and so you thought he was fine, it scared you, but you told yourself it was just a onetime thing. Everyone experiments. Until you caught him one other time, at Christmas. It was the first time you’d had both families together, and at your place. You remembered him being a nervous wreck all through the preparation, and when you went to get him from outside after he ducked out for a smoke, you saw him take the small tube out of his pocket. You didn’t know what to think, or say to him. You fought each other often and you hated the way he clicked his tough when he drove or never cooked dinner, but he wasn’t an addict. He couldn’t be. So you convinced yourself that he wasn’t.  
It was another busy Monday morning, you running around the house getting last minute things together in your bag before leaving. You were just outside the door when you remembered you’d left your eye drops in the bathroom along with your glasses. You had contacts but someday’s they didn’t exactly agree with you and you need the help. You quickly through you bag in the passenger seat, placing your fresh mug in the cup holder before heading back into the house, to the bathroom.  
“Hey babe can I come in really quick? I left my drops and glasses in there.” You sighed tapping on the door.  
“Just give me a minute I was just about to get in the shower.” His voice was off, quick and rushed. Not to mention the fact was never really the shy type, at least not with you.  
“Oh, come on. It’s not like it’s not something I haven’t seen before.” You giggle into the door. “Come on, open up I’m going to be late.”   
“Just give me a minute” He snapped through the door.   
“Zayn?” You heard some shuffling and before you could process what your hand was doing you pushed open the door and you couldn’t ignore it anymore, there it was in black in white, well more of the latter, laid out on your bathroom counter. He’d obviously tried to cover it up, but did a pretty lousy job.  
“What- What is this? What in the hell are you doing?” you didn’t know why you said it you knew very well what it was, you were just still processing it, all of it. He was worse than you thought, and you let him get this bad. You ignored it and now look at him.   
“No-nothing.” He said, wiping the remnants from his nose  
“That’s not nothing Zayn! What is all this?” You were yelling, but you were more hurt, and scared then angry. It was just easier to yell at him first then to cry.  
“Stop yelling, alright? I’ll get rid of it don’t you worry. It’s fine.” Get rid of it. How could he be so coy about this? This wasn’t some laundry that he’d let set out, or beer all over the kitchen after one of his boys nights when you had to work late. It was drugs. Cocaine. And he was acting like you were some over reacting house wife to him turning the laundry pink.   
“No it’s not fine! And you know it’s not, otherwise you wouldn’t be hid out in the bathroom like some drug addict!” As soon as the words left you mouth his face went cold. Eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, you’d never seen him this angry, or defensive.   
“I’m not. I am not a drug addict.” His voice was dead, and at the same time alit with rage. “Its- you know what? No. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”   
“That’s exactly what you have to do Zayn! If you’re stressed or need an energy boost, have a cup of coffee! Don’t go shoving that garbage up your nose! Why are you doing this?”   
You weren’t going to let him sweep this under the rug like you’d let him for the past couple of months. You weren’t going watched him slowly kill himself like you had been for months now.   
“Enough. This is over, go to work.”   
“Oh this is the farthest from being over. If we are going to have a life together, you can’t keep things away from me and I sure as hell am not going to walk down the aisle with some coke head.”  
“Shut up!”  
“NO!” you screamed back, through a shaky voice, tears threating to spill over. His eyes widened a little at you, before narrowing again. “I am not going to let you do this to yourself. I can’t just keep turning a blind eye to this. I won’t.”  
“What are you talking about.” He rolled his eyes shrugging his shoulders like some hormonal teenager.   
“I am talking about your friends, coming to me worried sick that you might be in over your head. They told me, but I didn’t listen. I told them that they were crazy, and that they were over reacting, because ne time at some sleazy party couldn’t make someone an addict. That you could never be stupid enough to through your life away for something as ridiculous as blow.”   
You held your voice firm, but the tears were flowing now, unwelcomed but you couldn’t stop them.   
“And then I saw you at Christmas on the porch. You’ve been so angry and moody lately. I’m scared.” How could you be so blind, not blind hell you knew, you were careless. You knew, but you just kept hoping that if you pretend that it wasn’t there then some way it would go away, but he only got in deeper. But you weren’t going to let him drown anymore.  
“Just, let me help you. Please. There are places that you can-“   
“I’m leaving.” With his jaw clenched he snapped around grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch, marching toward the door.   
“No, wait! Zayn please let’s just talk for a second, okay.” You pulled on his sleeve turning to make him see the pleading in your eyes. Neither of you had ever walked out during a fight, you didn’t want to start now when it mattered, and frankly you were afraid of what he was going to do when he did. You knew the subject of a rehab wasn’t going to go over well, but you didn’t want him to shut you out.   
“There’s nothing to talk about, you want the drugs out of the house, and you don’t want a ‘drug addict’ for a fiancée so I’m killing two birds with one stone.” He ripped his arm out your grasp, snatching the keys to his bike off the small dish nearest the door and made his way to the door.   
“Zayn-“  
Before you could get one last plea in for him to stay, to talk to him, maybe convince him that he needed help, he slammed the door right in your face. He turned his back on you. You didn’t have a clue where he had planned on going, but your gut told you it wasn’t anyplace good.


End file.
